The Big C

Journal,

     I don’t know what to feel or how. I know exactly how I should feel, sad. Maybe a little devastated. I should be on the floor hysterically crying asking “why?” Instead I feel a hole. Dark and cold. My brain scans all the possible answers to the why. I feel regret. I feel anger towards the time I have wasted. The precious moments I wasted doing things that were so worthless and now see that those moments I could have been there. I could have had more time. 

     I did cry. I can not put up a front and say I didn’t, that would make me heartless. I cried in private. To myself. I have to be strong.

“We have to be strong, we are going to be strong.” 

      My mom said when I came home. I knew she was getting check ups after check ups at the doctors. It never hit me until today. Yes, I always knew the possibility. But never assumed it to be true. Never imagined that the story would actually be played out this way. 

     We said we would be strong. But we know we are only humans. There is only so much we can take. 

      I ask myself why her? She is my everything. She has been a father, mother, friend, my conscience, and much more to me. She has such a big heart. She has done no harm to me. She hasn’t hurt anyone, made no enemies. She’s the reason I am what I am. Every kind and loving part my soul I have learned from her. She has taught me so much about caring and being a good person. 

     I’m not scared of death. I have never been. Death is death. Perhaps it’s because I have never seen it up close. I could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t blink twice. But her? I can’t picture that. What would my days be waking up with out seeing her face? How would I feel to come home and not have our afternoon talks ? What would I be when I can’t call her to ask her something? When I need her opinion? What will I turn into once I relized she’s not there to hold me when I’m hurt? To comfort me when I’m doubting? Who will guide me through this tough life? How will I be able to go on? What will be the purpose of life then? Of trying to stay alive? What will I live for? 

     Why am I making myself the victim ? Maybe I’m overreacting. Fuck you, if you think that’s the case. She’s my mother and if she’s gone nothing can replace her. Nothing can replace the way her voice sounds. Nothing will replace the way she knows how to make me feel better. Nothing will replace her love. 

     She can’t leave us yet. She won’t. We will get through this, I promise. 

3/15/2015

Advertisements